


Gravity

by a_wordsmith_and_dreamer



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:28:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23281762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_wordsmith_and_dreamer/pseuds/a_wordsmith_and_dreamer
Summary: How does a being like the Doctor perceive the universe and the people in their life?
Relationships: Twelfth Doctor & Clara Oswin Oswald
Kudos: 2





	Gravity

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not entirely sure what this is. A jumble of incoherent ideas, probably, but it flowed pretty nicely and as I have major problems finishing anything at the moment I'm really glad about this.  
> Hope you can get something out of it.

He doesn’t cry for her; he’d already done that an unspeakable long time ago. Cried for every life he was going to touch. It’s his proudest moment, no holding back, braving the tidal waves echoing down his timeline. His heart had shattered in a million-billion pieces and he had set out to find them, knowing, hoping, fearing, that they might be able to temporarily mend it. Somewhere deep, deep down he knows where she’ll end up. Knows the curves and end of every timeline in proximity to his own. He chooses not to remember while they are there, running in parallel, burning, laughing, breathing.

Clara put it quite well for a human mind: Everyone he meets is already dead and not even born and yet, there they are, laughing, crying, breathing.

There are only two times her words don’t ably and he seeks them out whenever he needs to forget or remember. And that’s why he finds himself here once again, listening to the singing of two black holes dancing around each other in the era when time does no longer matter because the last star burned out eons ago and the last remaining matter in the entire universe is a lonely little box. Gravity waves tickle the hand he stretches out into the nothingness. He’s alone. No one left to fear or admire or berate him. All alone in the dark. All alone in the silence. It’s a humbling experience.

Oh, how he’d like to share this with Clara. He never will though. He fears she’ll misunderstand, will interpret it as him trying to impress her. It’s the opposite. She might not be able to feel gravity ripple through her but apart from that this is the time when they’d be equal. But he’d have to explain and this incarnation doesn’t do well with explaining themselves. Therefore, no, he won’t bring her. It’s a shame, though.

He’s screaming out for her. She doesn’t hear, doesn’t know. Not her fault. She’s human. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less. He can’t keep running back to her forever, no matter how much he wishes to. Every heartbeat brings them closer to – she’s still here. Still here. Vivid as ever. Still breathing.

“Doctor?” His mind calms instantly. For her it’s just a step through a door. A wondrous door, yes, but only just a door. She can’t feel the dimensions pulling at her whenever she crosses, doesn’t know he becomes aware of her the moment they’re finally in the same dimension again. Oh, her timeline. He can feel and see and hear and smell and taste it. All and none of the above. It’s a sense humans don’t posses and therefore there is no way to break it into human language. Yet another thing he wants to share with her and can’t.

He can, however, share the stars and so that’s what he does. Blazing and hot and loud and there. Glad she is with him in this heartbeat, smiling, teasing, breathing. She asked him once if it was an addiction, their travels, their friendship. He likes to think of it as gravity. Two black holes dancing around each other. He dreads the moment they will merge.

Just another heartbeat, he begs. Just another heartbeat.


End file.
